The Confessions of Samantha Puckett
by auroraisnotmyname
Summary: Samantha Puckett is not who she pretends to be. 'Sam Puckett' is her mask. Will anyone ever learn who the real Samantha is? Freddie thinks he can figure her out, but this might be harder than he originally thought. Seddie.
1. Prologue

Prologue

I can't say I was expecting something.  
>When you're me, you never expect anything. If you lived my life you would learn not expect anything of people, and then they won't disappoint you. This helps me be strong. Or helps with the charade, if you like?<p>

___Samantha Puckett is weak._

There is only one person I trust and ironically sometimes I hate her. How can I compare myself to her beauty? She is adored by everyone, her smile oozes likability and she would never hurt anyone. Compare this to me. Sometimes I can't look at myself in the mirror. Everyone hates me. I constantly hurt people. I am truthful with myself though, I'll never be like her. I know that now, I can't change myself, but that doesn't stop me wishing I could.

_Samantha Puckett is insecure._

I live for the rush of adrenaline thrusting through my veins. The feeling that you might get caught and the relief when you don't with accelerated heartbeat and sweaty palms, these are the moments that make me remember I'm alive. Don't think I'm over exaggerating because I'm not. I act reckless because deep down playing the adrenaline junkie is the mask that helps me hid. Do you really think I'm fearless? Do you think I don't get scared? News flash, everyone is scared.

_Samantha Puckett is scared._

I'm outgoing yes? Loud, obnoxious, do people honestly think I am? Yes? But do I ever tell anyone anything? And I don't mean how much I hate them, I mean do I ever say anything about how I'm feeling? How sometimes my heart breaks or I feel so down I want to cry and be alone forever. How someone times I'm so happy my cheeks ache from smiling or I'm so confused and truthfully I just feel lost in life. No one knows how I feel.

_Samantha Puckett is silent._

He is new to me. I never believed this would happen. Fairy tales were never real, true love didn't exist and 'happily ever afters' were lies, I learnt that from my mother; the expert of true romantic failure. It was a shock to my system the day it happened. My mind and body were inwardly screaming at me and I chocked on the revelation. "I hate you," he smiled. Then I told the biggest lie of my life. I don't think another lie I tell will ever compare to that one. I walked from the fire escape that night and I'll never be the same ever again, because since that night that lie has affected everything.

_Samantha Puckett is a liar._


	2. Cheap Perfume and Cotton Candy

How do you tame a demon?  
>A blonde headed beauty with passion and anger that strikes fear into your being.<p>

I used to fear Sam Puckett. I would purposely hide from her. But she would always find me. She was a lioness hunting her pray, the hunger for my pain being the only thing on her mind. Her eyes would narrow, flaming blue glinting eager for my pain. My heart would beat dangerously fast and I'd brace myself for the punch or slap. It nearly always came, hard, flaring with fervour. Then pain.

It really annoyed me why she did this. No, it didn't just annoy me. Wondering why she enjoyed causing me pain ate away at my brain. It drove me insane. I would lay awake at night trying to think of anything I could have ever done to her to upset her. My brain came up with nothing. Then I was childish, I decided to torment her back.

Insulting each other with petty names was one of our favourite past times. We would hit each other, just because we could. No real reason but to annoy one another. This continued for years much to Carly's whining and wishing that we would 'just get along.' But then things started to change, she still hit me, obviously this is Sam I'm talking about, but she'd do it with a smile, or giggle. And again Sam Puckett achieved to cause disruption in my brain.

Sam Puckett was changing. It wasn't just her personality that was changing. Everything about her was changing. Her body was becoming more feminine, she wore my complimenting clothes and she changed her hair. (Her hair always reminded me of Goldie Locks, which ironically I find funny because Sam could never be an innocent fairy tale character, or that is what I thought.) Constantly I found my eyes being dragged away for Carly and stuck to Sam like glue. I had never really looked at anyone except Carly, especially not Sam, but since then I was transfixed. And somewhere in our messed up friendship we became closer than me and Carly ever were. Sam is my best friend.

Forcing laughter, she does that a lot now. I realised a long time ago that Sam Puckett is a very good actress. She thinks I don't realise when she's been crying, but I do. It scares me though. My fearless Princess Puckett isn't as brave as she pretends to be. If the person you have grown up with playing a game of 'hatred' since sixth grade suddenly stops playing their part where does that leave me? I'm too afraid to stop this game because I don't know what comes next, but maybe if I learn who Sam Puckett really is then I'll realise we have to stop?

I've driven her home from Carly's apartment tonight because it's raining, she protested but I called her 'Princess Puckett' and she blushed agreeing. She slams the car door shut and runs across the road to her apartment. She's alone now, like me. I smile trying to wash away the pain and confusion she has given me. Her scent still fills my car; it's like cheap perfume and cotton candy. Even as the cold Seattle rain pours down the windows I'm warm, wrapped in the presence of her. In every aspect of my life she had subconsciously made herself at home. I want to be alone with her, just me, her and the sky. I want to figure her out.


	3. Tears Are Common

I sat down on my bed, a mug of tea in my right hand, smudged nail varnish on the left and a paracetamol falling down my throat to kill the pain echoing around my skull. I could hear the steady beat of the rain lashing at my window, as I turned to look my eyes mirrored the sky and the tears cascaded down my face. People think I would never cry. Well I do, they'd be surprised to see me when I'm alone. Tears are common. My hands began to shake so I placed the mug on my bedside table. I let my muscles relax and I fell onto my bed as the hot tea filled my stomach. Closing my eyes I tried to clear my mind. It never works, you keep telling your brain to think of nothing and immediately it thinks of one thing. In my case it was, and always is, Freddie Benson. I can't stop the dreams where I see his face so close to mine, I can't stop how hard my heart beats when I see him, and it drives me insane. Sometimes I wish I'd never been mean to him, never beat him or upset him, but then again would I love him if I hadn't tormented him? Probably not.

She is part of me. She is the only one who will ever understand. Understand what it was like growing up with a nonexistent father and a mother who didn't know how to be a mother. The nights when we held each other in bed until our mother's screaming stopped; the days when we had to fend for ourselves, or the parents evenings when nobody came. She was always book smarter than me. When she achieved the scholarship I was jealous, upset, angry. She was leaving me! Leaving me so on those nights with the screaming I had to sit alone in bed, hiding under the sheets. But after time I knew I should feel proud, and I did, she had saved herself. She had a chance. I decided to ring her.

"Hello?" She answered on the third ring, like she always does.  
>"Hey Mel."<br>"Sam!" I heard the smile in her voice.  
>"S'up?"<br>"Studying, same old. How's things with you?"  
><em>I didn't say anything; there was nothing to say that I hadn't told her a million times before, 'He'll never love me.' 'Why do I love him so much Mel?<em>'  
>"Sam, I wish I was home. Please talk to him! You need to!"<br>_Something she says every time we have this disjointed conversation.  
><em>"I can't."  
>"Sammy I love you so much, you know that right?"<br>_I felt fresh tears starting to fall from my eyes._  
>"I love you too Mel."<br>"Aww don't cry! I know you Sam."  
>"Mel..."<br>"Yeah?"  
>"That's the problem."<br>"What is?"  
>"No one, except you knows who I am."<p> 


	4. Change is Eternal and Always Wins

"And we're clear." I said as we wrapped up another episode of iCarly. Sam's smile disappeared she looked and her shoes trying to contain herself. She had been acting like this for days now. She was barely talking to me and when she did her eyes did more of the talking. The deepness of them was trying to tell me something. Something she couldn't say herself.

"Carls I'll text you later, okay?" She whispered as her spark that was present just moments ago for the show diminished. She headed for the elevator and then she was gone.

"What's wrong with her Freddie? She won't tell me anything and I'm worried." Carly sighed as she collapsed on the purple bean bag. I placed my camera onto the trolley and decided I was going to find out, no matter how hard it was going to be. Sam is my best friend, and seeing her upset killed me.  
>"I'm going after her, I'll call you!" Without thinking I found myself taking the elevator down to the ground floor. I tried calling her cell phone, three times and three times it went to answer phone.<p>

_Where would she go?_

I left Bushwell and drove aimlessly around Seattle. She wasn't at the Groovy Smoothie or her house, and I was starting to panic. I was nearing the out skirts of town and it was getting late. Then realising I had no plan, intuition or sense of direction I pulled into the nearest parking lot of an Inside-Out Burger.

_Why do this to me Sam? I care about you can't you see that? Obviously not, but I wish you did.  
><em>_**Grow up Freddie! If she can't see it then why don't you tell her?  
><strong>__I'm not telling her because I'm not ruining our friendship.  
><em>_**Well not telling her isn't going too well is it?  
><strong>__...__**  
>I thought not.<strong>_

And then a plan formed in my head. I pulled out my wallet and smiled pulling out a twenty. I grabbed my phone and text Sam. If she didn't want to talk, we wouldn't. My fingers typed with eagerness,  
>"Sam, I know you don't want to talk to me. But just tell me where you are please! We won't talk, I promise."<br>I waited; five minutes, ten, twenty. I tried again,  
>"I'll bring you Inside-Out Burger."<br>She replied instantly,  
>"Fire escape."<p>

I had to laugh, in relief, sadness, anger and hope. I reminisced over the memories that fire escape held over me. I would go there sometimes to think or clear my head. It always seemed safe. But I didn't think it meant anything to Sam. Or did it? I quickly drove around the drive-thru of Inside-Out Burger and head back to Bushwell. I was going to tell my best friend I love her.

I turned the corridor to the open window. She was sitting on the floor of the escape her head resting against the windowsill, blonde curls flickering like electric flames in the breeze. I climbed through the window and sat next to her. She didn't look or acknowledge my appearance. We sat there for what seemed like hours of watching the Seattle sky line colours lighting up the night.

I didn't say anything. She was in charge, like always, and it was her decision. I would be there forever silent if that's what she wanted. Finally she spoke, her voice breaking from the tears that had been torturing her.

"I'm scared. Scared of the future and what's going to happen to me. Next year you and Carly are going to Collage and I'm going to be alone. I don't want anything to change; everything was perfect before we had to worry about things like the future. And then there's my mother, who constantly rubs Mel's success in my face. And tells me I'll never to aspire to anything. And sometimes I feel so down that I honestly believe her. I'm telling you this Freddie because I've given up. You win."

"I've won what?"

"Nothing? Everything? Don't you realise I don't pick on you anymore Freddie?"

"Yes, but I thought that maybe...perhaps you lik..."

"I realised I need you as a...friend Freddie." Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she whispered, "Please stay as that Freddie."

"Sam..."

She opened the bag of fast food and mumbled, "Please go."

And with that I left. The girl I loved only wanted me to be a friend. And I would try to be the best friend she would ever have. But walking to my apartment I knew that this was going to be hard because the love I had for her needed more than friendship.


	5. Stalemate

'Stalemate.' Mrs Rayfried wrote on the white board.  
>Mrs Rayfried, (one of Ridgeway's Maths teachers who had somehow been allowed to teach History after Mrs Ackerman's arrest) collapsed on to her chair behind her desk. Resting her chin in her hand she glumly looked at the class, "Can anyone give me a definition?" It was obvious she wanted to be there as much as they did, which was not a lot. Freddie looked to his left at Sam who was sleeping on her desk. He laughed to himself. Not a lot at all.<p>

It was first period on a Monday morning; this class was always the same. Mrs Rayfried would attempt to engage with the class, Freddie gave her credit for that, but his class mates, half asleep would prefer to do anything but learn. Freddie sat at the back of the class and looked around. Some of the people around him he would never see after this year. Sam's voice echoed in his mind, _"Next year you and Carly are going to Collage and I'm going to be alone."_ His heart sank because everything she said was true. They would all be alone. No more iCarly, no random trips to the Groovy Smoothie, no more Sam. And it was the last point that made it hard for him to sleep at night.

"Anyone? Anyone at all?" Mrs Rayfried asked with a hint of desperation in her voice. Freddie watched as Gibby's hand slowly rose into the air. Her desperation suddenly changed into defeat. "Please Gibby. Enlighten us all." She sighed.

"Actually I don't know the answer I was just wondering if I could go to the bathroom." He asked shyly. The class burst into laughter as Mrs Rayfried put her head into her hands in total trounce. Her voice was now quiet with fatigue or just annoyance as she called Gibby to the front to collect a hall pass.

"Since none of you know the answer I suggest you write this down in your notebooks." She picked up the text book on her desk and read, "Stalemate is any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock." She placed the book back down on the desk, "Putting that into context could you all please read chapter eight on 'The Battle of the Somme.' Please."

The quiet groans of protest soon died out and the class became silent. Freddie looked down at his notebook where he had written the definition:

'_Stalemate is any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock.'_

How simple was it to apply this to himself and Sam. He looked over at her again. Still asleep she stirred quietly moving her hand, he watched as her tiny fingers closed in to a fist and flexed back out again. A fist that would usually make him flinch seemed a gentle gesture when it was applied in one of her favourite past times, sleeping. It had been a week since their evening on the fire escape and she was acting like nothing had happened. But then so was he. He had promised her he would stay as a friend to her. They were both in a position where no progress was being made, stuck in a deadlock that was driving him insane.

The bell rang sounding the end of the period and the class hurried to pack their stuff away. "Right class please finish reading that chapter and answer the essay I've written on the board." Freddie looked up at the board and wrote the essay title into his notebook. He looked over to Sam again who had just woken up, since she was taking no interest in the essay title Freddie wrote it down again on a separate sheet of paper to give to her, she would only ask later. That was another thing that had changed in Sam; she now had an urge to succeed in school. He believed this was due to the fear of being alone next year, she had briefly mentioned she was going to try and get into Seattle Community College next year, but every time he tried to bring it up she became embarrassed and refuse to talk about it. However she hadn't fallen asleep in class in a while, this worried Freddie.

He walked up to Sam as she started to head for the classroom door. "Hey," he said as they walked out into the hallway and towards their lockers. "Hi," she smiled half heartedly. "I wrote the essay title down for you," he said as he handed her the piece of paper. "Oh thanks Benson. Fancy working on this at the Groovy Smoothie tonight?" she asked although she didn't seem interested in his response as she typed eagerly into her phone. She looked upset, but that was not abnormal now Freddie thought. "Um actually I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to mine to do it?" He asked hopefully. Still not looking up from her phone she said, "Okay whatever. Six?" She opened her locker and tried to hold her phone and put her history text books into it, with no success. The books and phone fell to the floor. "Shit," she mumbled, "I'm not having a great start today Fredweird." Freddie picked up the books and Sam's phone from the floor, catching a glimpse at the screen while Sam was getting a pack of jerky from her locker. There was a text message it read;

"Mom will be fine. Don't worry! I'll call when I'm home from school. And talk to him, please? You'll regret it if you don't xxx – received 9.03am from Mel."


	6. Heart to Vodka Heart

It was raining again by the time final period ended. I left before Freddie could try and talk to me again, today I had bigger problem to deal with. I walked home the long way, purposely sauntering in puddles, trying to put off going home; but part of me knew that I should be running. I needed to get home. I knew how these days played out and by now it wasn't going to be pretty.

I walked up the path to my front door and braced myself before I opened it and walked into the living room. The smell of alcohol hit me first, not an unusual smell, but stronger than usual. A bottle of cheap vodka emptied of its contents was staring at me from the coffee table. An old friend, it winked at me, a casual hello coming from its neck. Other than the empty glass bottle there was no other evidence she had been in here.

I checked the kitchen, with no prevail. If I went upstairs I knew what I would find. With Mel this was always easier; she was able to keep a calm and sympathetic tone in her voice. I just got angry or upset, usually both. I walked the stairs slowly, taking one step at a time. I walked to her bedroom. I heard the crying before I opened the door.

I pushed the door open and looked in from the hallway. She lay in her bed her head enclosed by the pillows that only muffled her cries a little.  
>"Mom," I stepped into the room. It smelled of cigarette smoke, vodka and red wine. She lifted her head from the pillows and looked at me. Her blue eyes that used to be as pure as mine were now bloodshot and sunken into her skull. Tears of mascara ran down her skin that had a slight tinge of yellow. I walked closer to the bed and watched her as she picked up the bottle of wine from beside the bed and take a long swig. She cleared her throat and her face forced a twisted smile, "It didn't work," she slurred.<br>"I guessed," I mumbled.  
>"He called me a whore. Well worse than that, which I am!" she laughed in a distorted fashion that made my stomach turn. My mother always blamed herself.<br>"You're not," were the only words I could muster, because part of me wanted to scream at her, '_Stop acting like a whore and then maybe men won't treat you like one!'_  
>As if reading my mind she spoke again, "They're all like it Sammy. They use you for their own pleasures and desires and then they ditch you. They can't feel love; all they can feel is their want for sex. Sex is what is always comes down too in the end."<br>"Well that's what happened to you. What if they really love you?" I argued back, Freddie came into my head, I knew he wasn't like that.  
>"Ha!" She laughed to herself and then went quiet, her drunken smile disappearing only for tears to fall again. Her voice was harsh with tears when she spoke again, "I loved your father Sammy, and I think he loved me, but even if he did it didn't last long."<br>I didn't say anything, the nights of my mother screaming filled my head.  
>"How much do you love him Sam?" My mother asked, her voice filled with seriousness now.<br>"Who?" I replied as Freddie entered my head again.  
>"You're seventeen, there's always a boy. I remember." She smiled. A sad smile, that brought tears to my eyes.<br>"He's not like that!" I screamed, tears pouring from my eyes I found myself running from to my own bedroom.


End file.
